


Therapeutic Intent

by Marie_L



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: BDSM, F/F, Femslash, Infidelity, Light Bondage, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Pre-Series, Sibling Incest, Strap-Ons, more BD than S&M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-18
Updated: 2014-08-18
Packaged: 2018-02-09 10:35:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1979625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marie_L/pseuds/Marie_L
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Beth feels depressed, Alison goes over to help a sister out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Therapeutic Intent

**Author's Note:**

  * For [merryghoul](https://archiveofourown.org/users/merryghoul/gifts).



Donnie was long in bed, but Alison was still up as usual, unable to sleep, unable to let a project go without perfection. It was 11:30 pm, and she was delicately placing hand-painted fondant soccer balls on each of her 120 artfully crafted cupcakes when the text came in from Beth.

 _Pauls gone_ c _ant take my life, I need u_

Even through the uncompromising letters, Alison could tell she was drunk. Then another:

_P_ _LEASE_

It was the _please_ that spurred Alison to action. Hard to resist a good begging _please._ Bake sale or therapy session with her sister, really not much of a choice. She glancedaround her frosting-encrusted kitchen, estimating it would take her an additional 35 minutes to finish decorating and minimally clean up, plus another 25 minutes to get over to Beth's. An adequate time frame.

She wiped a greasy hand on an embroidered tea towel and sent back her orders. _Now. Stop drinking. Normal position. No clothes. Wait 1 hr. Dont fall asleep._

Beth would be dripping wet and at least minimally sober by the time she got over there. Exactly the way Alison liked it.

 

******

 

She finished up the kitchen job and left a precautionary note for Donnie: _Insomnia. Gone jogging, have gun & phone. _If by some ridiculous circumstance he noticed the car was gone, she would plausibly claim to have gone for a late-night pie run. The jogging idea did come from Beth; Alison had sporadically used the excuse over the past few weeks, complete with new lululemon gear, as a cover for their meetings. Occasionally she even did run, to make it more real.

Alison pulled in front of Beth's darkened modernist home. A faint lamp gleaming from a back room was the only indication someone could be home. She grabbed her duffel bag - the one with craft magazines and crochet needles on top, and _other items_ below -- and purposefully marched up to the front door. She had her own key, of course, and could silently find her way through the master bedroom.

There was Beth, on the bed curled on her side, hands handcuffed together at the base of the headboard. As instructed, she was completely nude, muscularlegs pressed together and bent at the knee, arched back with the tension on her arms. Not as instructed, she was asleep.

Alison dropped the bag of goodies and sat on the edge of the bed, staring at her form. _Hers,_ Alison's in both the physical and psychological sense. She could do whatever she wanted in that moment, and Beth wouldn't have the will or motivation to stop her. She rested her fingers on her sister's thin hip, then ran the tips down her toned thigh. Lightly, too feather-light to wake her up. _Hers._

It was funny the way things turned out, because in public both Beth and Alison had similar personalities. Type A, always having to be in control, prone to neurosis. For Beth the assertiveness she was constantly required to project for her profession was a burden, a mask necessary to be called "detective." She liked the cerebral aspects of the job, the mysteries and puzzles to work out, the thrill of capturing someone who richly deserved their fate. But the masculine bravado, the constant stream of aggressive jokes and oneupmanship and general dick measuring that came with being a successful member of that tribe known as "cops" -- it wasn't her natural mode of being. And Beth's emotional discipline had been cracking for weeks under the stress of the Maggie Chen shooting, plus the whole c situation generally. She longed for occasional release, yearned to let go and let someone else be in control for awhile. The drugs sometimes helped, but there were other modes of therapy to nourish her splintering soul. Many more.

Which is where Alison came in. For Ali had no existential angst over power and control: She wanted it, period. She hated losing her grip, for it made her feel subordinated, like she was a helpless little weakling. Fuck that, she had no intention of going through life like that. The c situation threatened Alison's sense of moral order over the universe. Not so much discovering her genetic sisters, for as an adoptee she was long resigned to the notion that a gaggle of strange siblings could show up in her life one day. Rather it was the knowledge they were all being _manipulated_ that drove Ali to rage. It made her afraid, and she hated the mysterious "them" for her fear. Loathed them for filling her life with blank unknowns at someone else's whim, a life where she could never tell what would happen next, a life beyond her grasp.

But the person lying in bed here, waiting for her, craving her direction -- _that_ she could grasp.

Alison thought about what would be the most delicious way to wake Beth, and decided to go with the riding crop. Unoriginal, but it still was her favorite toy. The greatest thing about it, besides its endless versatility, was that it did not leave any marks. A hard limit with Beth, leaving any sign to her precious Paul what she was getting up to while he was away on his frequent business trips. Sometimes Ali fantasized about not only wounding her but really scarring that pale flesh. At a stroke she could mark her sister as _hers,_ and also permanently differentiate it from all the rest of their nearly identical bodies. But Alison held herself in check. Drawing blood, against the rules.

Ali stripped her own clothes off down to her underwear and bra, and retrieved the flexible stick from the bag on the floor. She ran its tip over the same area her fingers had just grazed, from Beth's small rounded ass down her thighs. Beth still didn't appear to regain any bit of consciousness, so Ali gave her a hard _thwack_ right on the butt. Then a heartbeat later, a second _thwack._ The first to wake her up, which she did with a satisfyingly restricted flail. The second so she would register the pain.

"I _told_ you not to fall asleep, slave," Alison sternly told her.

"Yes, Master. I'm sorry," came the meek reply. Ali hated being called "Mistress," as she thought it sounded like she was the madame of a whorehouse or something. Master and slave were classics, and worked just fine. "I was just so slee..."

Alison struck her again mid-sentence, right on the fatty globe. "I know why you were sleepy. You were drinking again, trying to wash the pain away. Well," _\--thwack--_ "that pain belongs to me, doesn't it?"

"Yes, Master."

"And you deserve punishment for your disobedience, don't you?" _\--thwack--_

 _"Yes."_ Beth almost wailed the word . She sounded so despondent, so _honest,_ Ali knew the despair was real for her, not just playacting the scene. She rubbed the pink ass cheek, deciding against further corporal punishment. Alison ultimately preferred Beth to feel pleasure, _forcing_ her to feel something, anything, except the dull stress of their lives. And by proxy Ali would feel it too.

She ran the crop up the side of Beth's body, tracing under her nipple when she reached the breasts. "You want me to beat you, don't you slave? You want me to hurt you until you pass out and then you won't have to deal with anything anymore. Well, that's not going to happen." With a deft touch she used the crop to flick the very tip of her nipple, three times until it hardened. Then Alison leaned over and took it with her teeth -- not biting, not sucking -- just with light force pulling and letting the tiny pink erection snap back. Beth arched her back and moaned, and rolled backwards to expose her her full chest for more.

"This is what I'm going to do to you, slave. I'm going to fuck you. Hard." Even in her domme role, Alison felt a little thrill by actually uttering the word "fuck" out loud in such a context. When they first started their kinky affair Ali done her research, through a variety of appalling and informative websites. The internet, really everything was on it nowadays. But it still felt like a performance much of the time, albeit an incredibly fun role to play. "I own your body. You will scream when I tell you, impale your wet cunt on me when I tell you, and come _only_ when I tell you. Nod if you understand."

Beth closed her eyes and eagerly nodded, and Ali responded with a harder bite on the other nipple. Then she straddled her sister's stomach and dangled her own lacy-bra'ed chest in front of her face. "Suck them," she ordered. "You will get no pleasure until I do."

Nuzzling her nose against Ali's warm breasts, Beth managed to use her tongue and teeth to pull down the bra's fabric and expose the areola on one side. She ardently wrapped her lips around the whole thing and suckled, hard and lovingly. A surge of pleasure shot through Alison from her chest seemingly straight to her clit, and she slid down some and spread her legs against Beth's thigh so she could rock in timethrough her thin damp panties to each squeeze of Beth's tongue. Even in her painfully depressed state, Beth seemed to respond not just to the commands of another person, but specifically to the act of pleasing her lover. Ali knew she personally wasn't that keen on breasts, for instance, but nevertheless worked it as if it were her own body.

Alison grabbed Beth's hair and yanked her head back suddenly."Do you love having a tit stuffed in your mouth, slave?" At her nod -- which Ali knew probably was a falsehood -- she shoved her face to the other side. "Liar. You're just going through the motions. Make me _feel_ it, thing. You have no other reason to exist other than me. I'm _you,_ do you understand?" At that Beth grabbed the nipple with her teeth, not even bothering to work away the lace, flattening her tongue and letting the rough fabric produce friction as she sucked. Ali let her hair go and purred approvingly. "That's more like it, good girl. My good girl."

Ali didn't know where half the stuff that came out of her mouth during these sessions came from. Normally she wasn't like this; normally, _she_ was the good girl. Sure, she ordered her Donnie around, but that was only because he was constantly doing things the wrong way. It was for the good of the family, really. But with Beth it was like she had not only permission but approval to let it all out. Someone who wanted her direction, her opinion, her very will subdued in favor of Ali's own.

After she felt sufficiently stimulated -- and ridiculously wet -- Alison had enough of the teasing, even if she was the one who ordered it. Time for the main course. Without preamble she climbed down from Beth's body and stripped off her sopping undergarments. Beth watched her with unadorned anticipation and lust, waiting for some sign of her sister's next move. "Like what you see, slave? It's not time for your enjoyment yet. Close your eyes." Beth's eyelids floated down in obedience.

She rummaged through her bag for her new toy, which she was _dripping_ to try out on a willing victim. A double-sided dildo, weirdly manufactured out of this purple silicone material that gave a little when you squeezed it. When she first opened the plain box a few days ago, Ali had a quick amusing fantasy of running a sex toy party for the ladies on her block. What would Aynsley think of _that?_ She could demo the hell out of all sorts of perverted devices now. Then later, when she locked herself in the bathroom and tried it on -- or in, really -- another fantasy hit her, nearly bowling her over. She imagined Donnie submitting to her, bending over with his face in the bed and his ass in the air, willing her to fuck him. It felt _powerful,_ having her own cock.

She slid the shorter end inside herself, all the way up to some ridges resting on her clit for better friction. Then she strapped it on to keep the whole contraption in place. The other end jutted out long and thick, sure to be a shock when Beth opened her eyes. 

Alison reached up and thrust two fingers up inside Beth to test her lubrication level. Beth moaned at the unexpected invasion and clamped her legs shut, but still kept her eyes closed. Ali tapped her thighs impatiently to get her to open them back up. "No, slave, don't be shy for me now. Spread them. Show me your cunt. Wider, open up for me completely. That's it." Again, "cunt" felt strange coming out of her mouth, harsh and _wrong_ for Boring Housewife Alison but perfect for Cropriding Domme Alison. Beth was wet but not that wet, not nearly as much a Ali herself, so she squirted a bunch of lube all over the cock. She didn't really get off on hurting Beth, but just wanted to stretch her, push her beyond her comfort level.

"Open your eyes now." Beth obeyed, and started as she saw the fearful and impressive gadget attached to her partner.

"Oh, Master," she whimpered a little. "I don't think tha..."

"You can take it," Ali interrupted. "You're my good little thing, you can do this for me. Keep your legs spread." With deliberate slowness, so Beth could see exactly what she was doing, she positioned the slimy, knobby end of the dildo at her entrance and leisurely pushed in. It pushed back against Alison's own vag, so they both ended up breathing hard at the sensation. Ali made it in about two-thirds of the length of the cock before meeting significant resistance, then stopped pushing. "You can do better than that. Open up wider, relax. Let your Master in, there you go."

Beth tilted her hips and spread her knees even further. Her eyes were glassy as she concentrated only on the feeling of being stretched and submitting to her sister. Alison pulled out slightly then shoved in again, a little bit rougher, impaling her a few inches more as Beth squealed. Almost there. She bunched up the blanket underneath them and lifted up Beth's hips, just to optimize the angle a smidge more, then she began to move.

She thrust slowly at first, so they could both adjust to the incredible sensation of being fucked simultaneously. They were in the to the hilt now, so with every shove Ali's clit rubbed against the knobby ridge of the dildo between them, designed for just that stimulation. Beth softly moaned with each sharp movement, her back arching and hips flexing trying to push on a little more every time. She used the restraints on her hands -- still handcuffed above her head -- as leverage to push off the wall and try and meet her lover with each thrust.

"Yeah, baby, I knew you could do it," Alison breathlessly spit out, as she rocked faster and faster. She was riding the crest, close to orgasm, but based on her sister's movements, Beth too was close. "Don't ever _think_ about coming without permission, bitch. Control yourself."

Beth cried out at that, much louder this time, having trouble restraining herself from the irresistible wave building due to the relentless pummeling. _"Please,_ Master, let me come, I can't stop it, please..."

Under other circumstances Alison would have slowed down to reign her sub back in, but at that point she was too far gone herself. "HOLD ... IT ... BACK," she commanded, and with those three final impalements she came with amazing force and collapsed on top of Beth's sweaty body. Beth cried out again, squirming back a forth at a different angle than the thrusts, desperately trying to swallow her own orgasm. With approval through her own hazy pleasure, Ali noted she seemed to have succeeded.

Still inside her and lying on top of her, she gently kissed Beth's face and neck. "You obeyed me. You controlled yourself. Such a good girl." Alison stretched over to grab the cuff keys safely laid within reach on a side table, and unlocked her. "As a reward, you can come now," she whispered. "Touch yourself. Make yourself come with me still inside you."

"Yes, Master," Beth whispered back. Ali sat back up on her knees so Beth could get a hand in between them, and watched her rub herself back up into a state of ecstasy. It didn't take long before she was spasming all over that thick cock. Alison almost had the urge to start fucking her again for round two, flip her over and pound her from behind, maybe with some satisfying hair pulling, but reluctantly decided she needed to head home soon. Next time.

They lay there quietly for a few minutes to wind down, the cock still inside both of them. Alison rolled them to the side so Beth wasn't pinned down, and massaged her aching shoulders and wrists a bit. "How do you feel now, Beth?" she asked. Using her name helped switch out of their roles.

"Like I just got fucked with a battering ram," Beth said in her normal voice, wryly. She nuzzled Ali's shoulder, kissing the soft skin for more gentle contact. "How does that thing feel on your end? Seems kind of awesome. Maybe I can try it on the giving end some time."

"Dream on, slave," said Alison sarcastically. They both laughed and leaned in for more of a kiss.

 


End file.
